a spring in my step *

Spring always makes me feel like some weird hybrid of Carrie Bradshaw and Laura Ingalls Wilder. I get the urge to romp around in a sunny field and live off the land, but I want to be wearing a new outfit while I'm doing it.

Sadly, I've been wasting most of this gorgeous weather held up at work, or when I'm at home, held up in my studio. Don't worry though, I've been getting some occasional sun exposure, eating lots of ice cream, and doing lots of sneezing - in an attempt to get into the spring spirit.

There is one outdoor activity that I'm particularly resolved to take part in, and that is the up-keep of our small veggie garden. D is definitely the plant man of the house, and I'm ashamed to say that my assistance with our past gardening endeavors has been limited to picking and eating. This year I've decided to get my hands dirty, and I'm determined to do more good than harm. This may, however, prove to be a lofty goal for a cactus killer like me.

I've been making these springy tees, and accessories to sell at the Dustbowl. So, if you need a little spruce-up in your wintery wardrobe, you know where to find me on April 25.

What projects are you undertaking this spring?

count me collected *

Hey Oklahomans! Many of you are probably already familiar with a charming little shop called Collected Thread and it's equally delightful owner Lindsay Zudrow. If not, you must make a point to visit next time you're in OKC. You'd better come prepared (with your wallet that is), this place is seriously irresistible. You can find a great collection of mostly local, thoroughly lovable handmade goods- you might even see a little something made by you know who.

*pics via Collected Thread

up and coming- Stephanie Liner *

Through my job, I often have the opportunity to meet amazing visiting artists from all over. Last week, I had a wonderful time getting to know the lovely and talented Stephanie Liner.

Stephanie lives and works in New York City, but grew up in North Carolina with connections to the furniture and textile industry. Her work explores sexuality and idealized beauty through references to domestic space and fashion. Stephanie's craft quality is absolutely gorgeous and her use of live models adds a somewhat unnerving element to her work. Its pretty easy see why she's gained such notoriety as a young contemporary artist, and great to see such a likable lady find success. I hope our paths might cross again someday and I'd really love to see her work in person!

a dusty road ahead *

As of this weekend, I'm officially accepted into the Dustbowl Arts Market, which takes place on April 25 during Norman Music Festival. I'm really looking forward to it, but with this being my first attempt at an arts market, I'm pretty nervous too. Last night I grouped all my completed pieces together on a table, but the effect was a little less dramatic than I'd hoped. *gulp* I'm slowly building a decent sized inventory, (the two images above feature a few of my latest additions) but I guess now is the time to kick it into high gear.

If anyone out there is an old pro at the whole arts market scene, or even if you're not, I'd love some advise. I'm hoping to learn a lot from this experience, get my name out and about, and maybe even make a little coin :) Hope to see or meet you on April 25... wish me luck!

a jack of all trades *

Sorry I've been a bit out of touch, but when it rains it pours-as they say, and as many of you know, I've been spending a lot of time under an umbrella lately. Last Monday, my Granddad Jack died, and D and I just got back from spending time with family in Corpus Christi, TX. This loss, on the heels of my dad's death, was certainly difficult, but eased with the knowledge that my granddad was lucky enough to live 85 long, full years. My granddad, an entrepreneur turned farmer and rancher, was exceedingly industrious and known for his quick dry wit. To me, my grandfather's remarkable true life story is rivaled only by his hilarious accounts of imaginary exploits.

I was honored to be the recipient of a few treasured artifacts of my granddad's. This tackle box and level were built by my great-grandfather, who, like my granddad Jack, was a woodworker.

In my granddad's shop, I stumbled across a particularly unique and enthralling collection of these QSL cards.

After my grandfather returned from WWII, where he was a radio operator, he developed a passion for amateur or "ham" radio. Amateur radio stations operate using Q-code. Q-code, a form of Morse code, allowed operators to facilitate communication with people who spoke different languages, from places far and wide.

These QSL cards are calling cards of sorts for ham radio operators and represent a confirmation of a two-way-radio contact. Sending, receiving, and collecting these cards was purely recreational. You might even call this hobby the precursor to social networking. After all, ham radio operators throughout the mid century were simply making connections to other people with a shared interest.

It's easy to see, looking to the selection above (a few of over 300, now in my possession) that people used their cards to express their individuality and cultures. My granddad was sent cards from all over the globe- Japan, the USSR, Cuba, Germany, Christmas Island, Rwanda, Bermuda, even a couple from Antartica- and that's just to name a few.

The joy that these vintage treasures bring me is dulled a bit by the sad fact that I never talked to my granddad about this passion of his. Regrettably, I discovered most of these ham radio facts via a Google search. He did share lots of stories with me, throughout my life, but probably never dreamed that I'd care about this long past past-time. I hope to encourage you to discover the past lives of your elders- listen, and enjoy the company of people who are far more interesting than you :)

route du sel *

get a move on, Arthur Ganson *

A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of attending a wonderful lecture by kenetic sculptor Arthur Ganson. I meant to share his work with you at the time and I hope that you'll enjoy sifting through his videos as much as I do (this is one of my favorites). Maybe it's because we are so accustomed to the precipitous, abrasive qualities of machines we interact with in our daily lives, that Ganson's delicate, quietly humming, gracefully moving pieces retain the awe that their relatively simple mechanics might not inherently bestow.

If you'd like to hear Ganson talk about his work, take a little time to watch him speak at TED-and if you're hungry for more kinetic sculptors, you'll love Theo Jansen.